


Dralshy’a Ka’ra (Brighter Stars)

by brianmay_be



Series: Jate'kara (Lucky Stars) [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: (will add smut tags when i post it!), Beach Holidays, Cock Warming, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Loving Marriage, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Pregnancy, Protective Din Djarin, Romance, Skinny Dipping, Soft Din Djarin, True Love, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, din djarin is a very sweet husband, gratuitous mando'a because i think it's sexy, he's just really romantic and tender and soft, talk of babies and birth control, technically a sequel but it can be read as standalone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianmay_be/pseuds/brianmay_be
Summary: It was just like Din to treat grand love gestures as everyday kindnesses to you. You would have attributed it to the Mandalorian way of life, where selflessness was expected in every aspect of one’s relationships, but you knew the way he treated you with such gentleness and kindness without ever being asked or expecting anything in return was just in your husband’s nature.or;In the lake country of Naboo, you and Din romance each other under summer’s brighter stars.(Sequel to Ciryc Ca'tra)
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Reader, Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin & You, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Series: Jate'kara (Lucky Stars) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178801
Comments: 6
Kudos: 128





	1. Sunshine

“Isn’t the sunshine wonderful, Din?”

You tipped your face up towards the bright, cloudless Naboo sky, feeling the sun on your cheeks like a kiss from a dearly-missed friend.

You heard a soft laugh come through Din’s vocoder. “Yes, it’s wonderful.”

You looked over at him and gave him a bright, sun-squinty smile. “You’re not even in it.”

He was leaned up against the side of the Crest in its shadow, as relaxed as someone in full armor could be, his arms crossed over his chest as the sunshine glinting off the bay cast shimmering reflections on his beskar. You knew he was monitoring your surroundings with care - even in the port of Naboo, where you’d never known there to be any trouble, your husband was nothing if not observant.

“I will be,” he said patiently. “But there’s no use in me sweating through my armor before we’ve even docked the ship.”

You were waiting on the harbormaster to come by and check that everything was in place with where you’d landed the Crest, and even though you knew Din had done everything by the book, he still preferred to have a conversation with the person in charge wherever he left her. You came over to him, stepping into the shade from the Crest, and rested your arms over his.

“Hi,” you said with a smile, looking up at his helm.

He chuckled. “Hi, yourself.” He leaned in to gently tap his helmet against your forehead. “Are you happy to be back?”

“Yes,” you said, earnest and sincere. You’d only come back to your home planet once since you'd been married, and that was to let your family meet your new baby. That time, you had only stayed for a few hours - Din had worried about coming at all, as the authorities on Naboo surely knew the price on his head and didn’t care that the kidnapping was, in reality, the rescue of a youngling from a murderous Imperial warlord. But he knew how much it meant to you that your family be able to see and hold your new baby, and had whisked you and your foundling into your small village in the countryside under cover of night. The expression on your mother’s face when she held your baby for the first time was something you would always treasure, and you would never be able to truly thank Din for letting you have that, even as dangerous as it had been for him to arrange.

This time, you were here without the baby; you’d taken him to Sorgan, to stay with Omera and Winta for a few days, and you knew he was having the time of his life playing with the other children in the village for hours on end. Din had made good on his promise to take you on a trip after the frozen planet - somewhere warm, where you could rest and enjoy being with each other without a care in the galaxy. You also knew he was paying good money to keep your ship off the radar; an old ship like yours was bound to draw attention, and it was only with a generous amount of credits that it would be able to go by the New Republic regulations without getting flagged.

“Thank you for bringing me,” you said.

He nodded. “You’re welcome.” It was just like Din to treat grand love gestures as everyday kindnesses to you. You would have attributed it to the Mandalorian way of life, where selflessness was expected in every aspect of one’s relationships, but you knew the way he treated you with such gentleness and kindness without ever being asked or expecting anything in return was just in your husband’s nature.

“Are we going back to Trask after this?” you asked. You didn’t want to spend your holiday worrying about what you’d do after it was over, but you knew it had to be on your husband’s mind.

He studied you for a moment. 

“I think so,” he finally said. You’d stopped there long enough to bring the frog lady to her husband and get the Crest halfway flyable again, and then taken it to Peli for more extensive repairs. It was almost as good as new, and it had taken you to Sorgan and then here to Naboo with little trouble.

“I still need to find the other Mandalorians,” Din continued. “I thought of letting you stay with your mother while I did, but...” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be apart from you like that. I can’t keep you safe if I’m not with you.”

You knew he was thinking of your baby as well as you, and you gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

“We’ll come with you to Trask,” you said. “I understand you not wanting to leave us for that long. But for now, the baby will be fine with Omera for a few days. You don’t have to worry about him.”

He sighed. “I know,” he said. “It’s just... it was harder to leave him than I thought it would be.” He seemed to think he’d said something wrong, and quickly tried to mend it.

“Not that I don’t want to be here with you,” he said. “I do. It’s nice to have a break and just be with you, cyare.”

You smiled. “I know what you meant,” you assured him. “It’s hard for me to leave him too, but he’ll be fine with Omera.”

You reached up and draped your arms around his neck; his hands moved to your waist and the small of your back, holding you close to him.

“And we get a few days all to ourselves," you said. "With no broken ship and no horrible spiders and no frosty beskar.”

He gave a wry hum of agreement. “Basic requirements for any vacation, I think.”

You laughed. “I think so too, but with our luck, we should take what we can get.”

You could have stayed in his arms like that for hours, but you felt him straighten and pull away from you a little; you turned your head to follow his gaze and saw the harbormaster coming over to the Crest. You stepped back into the sunshine, content to let Din handle the logistics of docking the ship while you basked in the warmth.

“All set,” Din said after a few minutes, putting a hand on your back to gently get your attention. You opened your eyes and almost had to close them again at the bright shine of his beskar in the sunlight.

“Great,” you said. “Is that a defense tactic for you Mandalorians? Blind your opponent with your shiny armor?”

He laughed. “Knowing us, probably.” 

You wound your arm around his and hung off him like a new bride, leaning your head against his bicep as you walked down the port street together. You drew attention - Din’s armor would always attract curious gazes wherever he went - but the people of Naboo were not aggressive or overly suspicious. Travelers of all kinds came to enjoy the sights of the beautiful city and the countryside, and as long as they didn’t cause trouble, the locals were happy to let them be.

“Do the people around here dress this fancy all the time?” Din asked.

You considered the locals that walked the streets, noticing their long, flowing dresses and ornately stitched suits that you’d grown up wearing and seeing everywhere in your childhood. You were so used to it that it hadn’t even occurred to you that it would seem out of the ordinary - you and Din were the ones who seemed out of place, with his armor and your plain shirt and trousers.

“Yes, but it’s not considered fancy,” you explained. “Even those who do manual labor still have some sort of detailed stitching or bright colors on their clothes.”

Din looked over at you, seeming to take in your outfit. “Do you miss it?”

You shrugged. “Maybe. Sometimes.” It had been a bit of an adjustment when you first married, but it just wasn’t practical to wear anything that ornate when you were the wife of a bounty hunter. It attracted too much attention and made for a clumsy getaway, if you ever needed to make one. It didn't bother you now, and you were happy to dress in a way more suited to your lifestyle, but you imagined it would be a fun change of pace to wear a pretty dress every now and then.

He put his free hand over yours where it rested on his arm, gentlemanly and comforting. “I’m sorry I can’t give you... nice things. The things you were used to when you lived here.”

“Oh, Din,” you said, looking up at him. “You don’t need to apologize. I love our life, and I don’t regret anything that had to change to let me be with you. I’d give up every nice thing in the galaxy to be with you if I had to.”

His laugh was a little regretful. “Haven’t you, for the most part?”

“No,” you said honestly, hoping he would understand how much you meant it. “I mean, yes, it’s very different from how I lived here, but I don’t care about all that stuff, Din. There’s nothing I’d want more than you and our son - nothing else would make me happy.”

His gaze was steady, and you wished you could see his expression.

“I love you,” he said finally.

You smiled. “I love you too,” you said, leaning your head against his arm once more. “And besides, your son would pull every last thread of beading off of anything I decided to wear that was fancier than this.”

He laughed, and you were pleased to hear that it was more relaxed. “You’re probably right about that, cyare.”

You walked arm in arm through the streets of the city, taking in the sights and sounds of the beautiful streets of Theed. Even when you lived on Naboo, you hadn’t ventured to the capitol much - your family lived in the hill country, and you only came into Theed for special occasions. In your travels with Din, you rarely visited such a bustling city center; most of his work was conducted on the scrappier, less hospitable planets. 

You dragged Din to a halt in front of a market stall with all sorts of candies and sweets, spotting something you hadn’t had since childhood and now simply couldn't go another minute without.

“What is it?” he asked. He didn’t much care for sweets, but obliged your proclivity for them all the same.

“Plasma cloud,” you said, pointing out the pink swirls of egg whites and sugar. “My father used to bring them home to us when he came to the city on business.”

Din reached in a pocket on his belt and handed you a few credits, and you grinned at him with childish excitement.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on the side of his helmet before you went up to the stall owner for your treat. You came back with a bag of them in hand and one already popped in your mouth and handed Din his change.

“I’ll save a couple for you for later,” you said around another bite. They were better than you had remembered them, and reminded you of long summer days spent playing and waiting for your father to return home from the city.

“I know you don’t like candy,” you said, winding your arm around his again. “But you have to try a bite, at least.”

He chuckled. “I’ll try them for you, cyare. Are they good?”

You nodded. It was all good - the sunshine, your sugar-sticky fingers, Din beside you for a leisurely stroll through the city. You couldn’t remember the last time you and your husband did anything with leisure besides collapse in your bunk at night, and determined you’d make a better effort to make happy afternoons like this one a priority for both of you.

“So, lover mine, where are you taking me?” you asked, happy to let him lead the way. He hadn’t given you any details about where you were staying while you were here, and you’d assumed you were going to stay with your parents, but it would have been impractical to dock in Theed and travel all the way to the hill country. You guessed he could have wanted to stay in the city, but that didn’t seem like him, and you looked up at his helm while you waited for his reply.

He looked down at you. “It’s a surprise.”

You grinned. “Okay. Is it somewhere in the city?”

“No,” he admitted. “We can stay for a while longer, but we should be heading out of the city before the sun starts to set. If I was drawing attention earlier, I'll be the most popular guy on Naboo come nightfall.”

You hummed in agreement. “It’s because of your winsome personality.”

He laughed. “Yes, that must be it. Mandalorians are notorious charmers everywhere they go.”

“Well, mine is,” you said. You traced the Mudhorn signet on his pauldron, the one that matched the pendant you wore around your neck. “I hope our kids grow up to be like you, Din.”

He looked over at you, perhaps as surprised as you were by the unexpectedly serious and heartfelt sentiment. You blushed, but you didn’t quite know why until you realized that you’d said _kids_ , plural, and it had slipped out before you thought of the implications.

He seemed a little lost for words for a moment. 

“Thank you, cyar’ika,” he said, and you knew how much he meant it. “That’s... very kind of you to say.”

As always, his humility endeared him to you. You touched your fingers to your lips and then to the bottom of his visor.

He was quiet, and you knew him well enough to know that his cheeks were pink under the helm. Then, most likely with a gentle smile, he lightly nudged his shoulder against yours.

“I hope our kids grow up like me too,” he teased. “I’m what the Mandalorians call a ‘ramikadyc mando’.”

You smiled. “Oh? And what does that mean?”

He shrugged, easing his discomfort with the self-aggrandizing nature of the joke as he explained it to you.

“It’s used to describe someone who takes on the best of Mandalorian training and lives it to the fullest. Endurance, determination. Confidence, but justified by their skill. I’ve had the pleasure of knowing several Mandalorians who deserve the title.”

You wanted to say that he deserved the title too, but you knew he’d be embarrassed by it and wave you off. You settled for pressing closer to him, and he pressed closer to you in return.

You whiled away the afternoon in the city, window shopping and admiring the beautiful architecture as the sun sank lower in the sky. Music drifted from the concert hall, dreamy and elegant as it mixed with birdsong and people’s friendly conversations. You stopped to admire a great swath of flowering vines that had covered the side of a weathered stone building, the deep wine color of the blooms catching the fading sun.

“Millaflowers,” you said, recognizing them from a dress your mother had when you were very small, hundreds of the little blossoms carefully stitched into the fabric. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Din very carefully plucked one and tucked it behind your ear. “Even more beautiful on you, cyare.”

Your cheeks warmed as you reached up to touch his hand, surprised and delighted by the tender gesture.

“I love you,” you said.

He gave a soft laugh, affectionate and warm. “I love you too, ner sarad.”

You twined your fingers with his. “‘My flower’, right?” you translated.

He hummed in agreement. “It isn’t used that often, but I think it’s nice. I once heard an older Mandalorian say it to his wife, and I thought to myself that I’d like to call someone that one day.”

“Did you really?” you asked, endeared at the thought. “Oh, Din. You’re secretly a romantic, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” he said sweetly. You leaned close and he obliged you with a gentle tap of his helm against your head.

“Let me take you to bed,” he said softly.

You blushed; better than anything, your husband knew how to make you feel desirable, and you were pleased with the affection and want in his voice.

You put your arms around his neck.“Okay,” you said, your voice a little wobbly and lovesick. He put his hands to your waist and drew you to him, and you suddenly wished there wasn’t so much beskar between you.

He held you for a moment longer before he released you to take your hand, leading you back through the winding streets until you came to the lakeside on the opposite side of the city from the bay. The warm lights of the city reflected over the water, and lights flickered from houses nestled into the mountains that wound around the body of water that seemed to go on forever.

“That’s where we’re headed,” Din said, pointing out a small cluster of lights just visible around the curve of one of the mountains. “Near enough to the city, but no neighbors.”

You gave him a wry grin. “Any particular reason that might be important?”

You would have bet good money he smirked under his helmet. “Yeah. I’m not very neighborly.”

You gave his shoulder a playful shove, and his laugh was bright and warm even though his modulator.

“We’re taking the ferry there,” he said. “It should be here soon.”

For the sake of Din’s dignity, you didn’t start jumping up and down with delight, but you wanted to. 

“Are we really riding the ferry?” you asked.

“...yes?”

You grinned. “I’ve never been on it before,” you said. “Mother’s deathly afraid of boats, and we didn’t go into the city with dad. I’ve always wanted to, ever since I was a little girl.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m honored to be the one taking you on your first ferry ride, cyare. I’d have planned our trip a little differently if I knew you were that easy to please.”

You knew he was kidding, and you wondered what else he’d planned. Everything so far had been lovely; you didn’t need anything more.

“What else do you have planned, Djarin?” you asked, teasingly suspicious.

He cocked his head at you. “Haven’t you ever heard that patience is a virtue?”

You laughed. “Sure, but we both know I’m as impatient as they get.” 

He gave an affectionate hum of agreement. “Yes, cyare. I know.”

He put his arm over your shoulder and drew you close, his posture relaxed and open. You leaned against him as you waited for the ferry, watching the gentle waves on the water with more peace and contentment than you’d had in a long time.

  
  



	2. Together As One

“Din... how many more _kriffing_ steps am I going to have to walk up tonight?”

He stopped and looked back around at you, at least five steps ahead, looking no worse for wear even though he was the one in tons of beskar. He cocked his head and you thought you could see the tell-tale shake of his shoulders as he laughed.

“Not that many more,” he soothed, his voice amused. He closed the distance between you and held out his hand to you. Mollified by the gesture, you took his hand; before you could thank him, you surprised even yourself with a squeal of protest as he tossed you over his shoulder like a wayward child.

“Din!” you half-laughed, half-yelped, your hands flailing uselessly against his back. He gave the back of your thigh a firm pat as he started up the steps again, carrying you up the incline like it was a stroll in the park.

“You don’t have to carry me up, Din,” you giggled. You rather liked being toted around so ungracefully, and you liked the way his arm stayed snugly over the back of your thighs.

He gave a light grunt, the only indication that carrying his wife up a staircase on the side of a mountain was the slightest bit difficult.

“Didn’t want to listen to your whining any more,” he teased. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

You settled as much as you could over his shoulder, content to let him take you the last bit of the way up. You’d gotten off the ferry - which you’d thoroughly enjoyed - and started up the winding steps carved into the mountain towards _wherever_ Din was taking you. It really wasn’t that bad, but you were impatient to get there and a little fussy at how Din didn’t even seem short of breath. You should probably invest in a little Mandalorian-style endurance training; then again, when you had a very fit Mandalorian-style husband, the matter didn’t seem that pressing.

You _had_ been nearly there, and Din set you down gently after a few minutes. He kept his hands on your waist, and you raised a brow at him.

“Close your eyes before your turn around,” he said. You smiled and did as he said, letting him steer you until you were facing, presumably, the place where you’d be staying through your trip.

“I don’t know if you’ll like it,” he said, and he sounded endearingly nervous. “I tried to pick somewhere I though you would like, and I... I hope it’s ok.”

You gave a soft laugh. You weren’t picky, and you were sure whatever place Din had picked out would be lovely.

“Okay,” he said. He rested his hands on your shoulders, their familiar weight comforting to you. “You can open your eyes.”

You did, and you couldn’t believe Din had been nervous about it at all. It was a gorgeous little villa, all light stone and climbing vines, warm and inviting. You looked back at him with a grin and hoped he knew how well he’d done.

“Can we go in?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Of course.”

You opened the front door and saw it was even prettier on the inside. You left Din’s side to look at everything, to explore every room - it was open for the most part, and most of the main room was taken up by a huge, inviting bed and a large fireplace set into the wall with a cheery fire crackling away in the grate. The entire right wall of the main room led out onto a shaded terrace with a pool that overlooked the lake and the surrounding mountains, so you’d be able to watch the sun rise from your bed in the morning and enjoy the sunlight all day. 

“Oh, Din,” you gushed. “It’s _wonderful._ Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said affectionately. “I’m glad you like it.”

You put your arms around his neck, wanting to be held; he obliged you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You didn’t have to do all this for me,” you said, a little bashful.

He tapped his helmet against your head. “I wanted to,” he said. “You deserve it, for putting up with me and all the trouble I get us into.”

You laughed. “I like trouble. And I like you very much.” You kissed his visor. “But, I also like that pool very much.”

You unwound yourself from his arms and decided to be a little spontaneous; you undressed for him then and there, discarding your clothes in a heap on the floor without a care in the world. You smirked a little at how he watched you - you could imagine how high his brow had quirked in surprise and intrigue - and teased him further by unhooking your bra and offering it to him, dangling it by the strap.

“Um, thanks,” he said, his voice cracking a little. It was so sweet that you almost took pity on him, but you liked knowing how you affected him and gave him a coy smile as he took your bra from you and held it a too-tight grip.

He looked so collected, hidden behind his beskar, and you desperately wanted to see him; you wanted to see how he looked at you, to see the expression on his face as he watched you. More than anything, you wanted to touch him; you wanted to feel his skin on yours, to feel his warmth. You resisted the urge to help him undress and gave him one last tease instead.

“Come have a swim with me, Mando,” you said, tracing a finger down his chest plate. “Don’t take too long getting your armor off.”

Before he could answer, you walked out onto the terrace and dove into the pool with the practiced ease of someone who’d spent every free moment in her youth swimming in the lakes and rivers of Naboo. The water was wonderfully cool on your skin, and you surfaced to a darkening sky with the first stars shining brighter than you’d ever remembered them.

You swam over to the edge of the pool, propping your arms on the edge and watching your husband with unabashed attention. He was always careful with his armor - even in your more frenzied trysts, he always took the time to put all his armor together so he could find it easily if he needed to. The gloves and belt came first, then the thigh and shin plates, vambraces, and pauldrons. His chest plate followed, then his boots. It was an intricate ritual, the putting-on or removal of his armor; you’d always loved to watch it, to see how methodical he was with it.

He turned to place his armor neatly on the settee at the foot of your bed, and didn’t turn back towards you when he took his helmet off. You smiled to yourself; it was his own way of teasing you a little, making you wait to see him. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the beautiful brown curls, and placed his helmet next to his armor.

He made quick work of the flight suit, and you felt a warm and comfortable desire as you saw the planes of his back, the ridges of his lean and hard-won muscles. When he turned to face you, your breath caught in his chest; maker, he was _beautiful,_ and you almost couldn't believe he was yours.

His dive was graceful, but he surfaced with a grin and a little splutter. He swam around for a minute, enjoying the feeling of the water on his skin, basking in the warm night air; you watched him with a lovesick smile, endeared by how much he was enjoying himself.

“It feels so nice,” he said as he swam over to you, his expression happy and relaxed and open. You loved how expressive he was; he had never really learned to make his face unreadable, and was more honest and open in his expressions than anyone you’d ever met. 

He took you in his arms, drawing him close to you; you rested your arms on his broad shoulders and sank into the feeling of his skin on yours. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, studying your face like you were something precious. You kissed him deeply, sweet and messy and wanting.

“Did you like my little show, earlier?” you asked, tracing your thumb over his bottom lip. He grinned.

“Yes, I did,” he said. “I wanted to come in after you, beskar and all.”

You laughed at the mental image of your husband in the pool in all his armor. “Good thing you have a little self control, then.”

He gave an affectionate hum of agreement as he nuzzled against your neck, kissing light love marks into your skin. You tilted your head back to allow him better access and carded your hands through his wet curls, pressing against him as closely as you could. 

He pulled you close and led you into deeper water; when you couldn’t touch, you let him carry you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and felt a thrill of pleasure at the way his breath caught in his chest.

He made to kiss you again, and though you knew he wanted more, you only gave him a quick, chaste kiss. He raised a brow and watched your face for an explanation.

“Patience, my love,” you said with a smile. “I want to do something first.”

You put a hand to his cheek, tracing over the features you knew so well; he relaxed and settled for rubbing circles against your hips. 

He was beautiful, the ruggedness of his strong features softened by the gentleness of them. His brow, dark and noble; his mouth, soft and quick to smile. You brushed back a few dark curls that fell over his forehead and traced down the line of his nose; his expression scrunched up a little at that, and he gave a gentle laugh.

He let you take your time like you wanted, gazing at you with his lovely brown eyes framed by dark lashes and laugh lines. You brushed your fingers over his jaw and dipped your fingers to his collarbone, feeling his pulse jump a little at your touch.

You put your fingertips on his mouth. “I love you.”

He kissed your fingers. “I love you too, cyar’ika.”

You moved your fingers and kissed him, softly and slowly. He was patient and deepened your kiss gradually, groaning softly against your mouth when you pressed your hips against him. You felt the way he responded to your touch and felt yourself respond as well, that familiar tight heat making itself known between your legs.

“I want you,” you said, already a little breathless. He kissed your collarbone and moved his hands to the small of your back.

“Now it’s your turn to be patient, cyare,” he said, his voice warm and full of desire. “Lean back for me.”

You did as he said, letting him support you with his hands on your back; the stars were brilliant now that night had truly fallen, thousands of them in the cloudless sky. You fleetingly wondered if you remembered any of the constellations, if you - 

_“Kriff,_ Din,” you breathed, all thoughts of the stars gone the second you felt his mouth on your breast. He chuckled against your skin, steadying you as you gave a soft moan.

“Do that again,” you said.

“Don’t worry,” he assured you. He swirled his tongue over your nipple, moving one hand to knead your other breast, gentle and determinedly patient.

“So beautiful,” he said, kissing down your breastbone. Then, his voice deepened a little as it always was when he spoke his native tongue. “Mesh’la, ner cyare.” _Beautiful, my beloved._

His voice and his mouth on your skin made you flush with desire, and you raised yourself up to kiss him, impatient and needy. He kissed you back just as deeply, his hands moving all over you; you gave a choked moan when his cock met your heat, and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing against him, needing friction.

“You asked to take me to bed,” you said against his mouth. “Take me, then.”

His grip on your waist tightened, but his smile was gentle as he realized how much you wanted him, how needy you were for him. “As you wish, riduur.”

You didn’t want to spare the time, but you didn’t want to get the bed soaking wet either, and grudgingly took a moment to towel off as you got out of the pool. You consoled yourself with watching Din dry off, seeing the way the water shone on his skin in the firelight.

“Come here,” he told you, tossing his towel over the arm of the settee. You did as he said, tipping your face up for a kiss; he gave you one, but it was clear he had something different in mind. He picked you up by the waist and laid you back on the bed, standing between your legs, hovering over you and giving you feather-light kisses all over your body.

“Din,” you whined. As sweet as it was, you needed him to touch you with more than these teasing little glances. 

“So needy,” he cooed, lowering himself to his knees between your legs and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. He kissed your thighs, his scruff rasping against your skin. “What do you want, my love? Tell me what you want from me.”

You gave a little gasp as he nipped at your inner thigh. “Um - I need - ” You almost blushed. “Touch me, please, Din.”

He hummed in agreement, inching closer to your heat. “How do you want me to touch you, cyar’ika?”

Oh, hang it all - he was enjoying this little game, and you knew you’d have to play along. You bit your lip; how could he still make you as nervous and fluttery as a schoolgirl after all this time?

“Your tongue,” you said, the words coming out a little tight. “Please, Din.”

He gave a soft, pleased laugh, and you knew you’d given him what he wanted.

“Hmm, like this?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he spread your legs further and licked a slow stripe over your heat, maddeningly patient as his tongue swirled over the places he knew made you moan. He was rewarded for his efforts as you keened and twisted the sheets in your grip, utterly entranced by the feel of his tongue on your heat, his nose nudging against your clit.

“Jatisyc,” he rasped in Mando’a, giving a last skillful touch to your entrance before he moved to suck on your clit. You tangled your fingers in his hair.

“What - ” you gasped. “What does that mean?”

He lifted his head and grinned at you as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

 _“Delicious,”_ he said, hovering over you, leaning on his forearm beside you. He kissed you, and you gave a gasping moan as he eased two fingers into you.

“Please,” you managed. You weren’t sure what you were asking for, but he seemed to know; he rubbed his thumb over your clit and you saw stars.

“ _Din_ ,” you said desperately. He took his time and set a steady pace, stopping his kisses every so often to watch your face, and his look of adoration alone was almost enough to drive you over the edge. You gripped his shoulder and moved your hips against his hand, feeling yourself come unraveled beneath him.

“Oh, Din, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasped. 

“Maker, you look so beautiful,” he said, his voice deep with pleasure. “I love you so much, cyar’ika. Cum for me, my love.”

You could feel every callus on his work-hardened hands, strong and yet holding you like you were the most priceless treasure that might break apart with too strong a grip. He curled his fingers and hit the spot that made you tumble over the edge, moans and breathless curses falling from your lips.

He caught your moans against his mouth as he kissed you, drawing out your orgasm as long as he could for you. You babbled your thanks as you tangled your fingers in his hair, bringing him down to lay on top of you, deliriously happy in the crush of heat and limbs and kisses.

“I love you,” you said breathlessly. “Thank you, thank you.”

He chuckled and gave you sweet, sloppy kisses under your jaw. “My pleasure, cyare. Thank you for letting me.”

You kissed there for a few minutes before you realized it couldn’t have been that comfortable for him, and you parted just long enough for both of you to get on the bed. He hovered over you and kissed you everywhere he could reach, worshiping you with his touch and his steady praise.

“My love, ner cyar’ika riduur,” he murmured against your skin. “Mesh’la dala, my dear heart.”

You were almost embarrassed when you felt the sting of tears; sometimes you couldn’t believe how deeply he loved you, how desperately he desired you.

He gave a soft, sympathetic laugh when he kissed away a single tear. “Cyar’ika,” he said gently, trying to soothe you before he even knew what was wrong. “What is it?”

You hid your face against his shoulder. “It’s silly,” you said quietly. “Sorry.”

“No, cyare,” he said, kissing your neck with every gentleness, the roaming of his hands turned from teasing more to comforting. “Tell me. Are you unhappy?”

You kissed his cheek, nosed against his jaw. “No, I’m... happier than I’ve been in a long time,” you said truthfully. “Just... thank you for loving me the way you do.”

His smile was soft and a little wobbly with his own emotion when he lifted his head to look at you. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I know I could live a thousand lifetimes and never love you like you deserve, but I vowed to love you faithfully, and I will be pleased to do so until my dying breath.”

You allowed yourself a little smile; he was always so poetic when he got romantic and emotional, and you wouldn’t have him any other way. You kissed him, feeling the depth of his conviction to live by your riduurok, your love-bond, your marriage vows.

“Vercopa baar bal runi tome solus, cyar’ika,” he said against your skin. You knew it was Mando’a, but you could only translate some of the words.

“Tell me what that means,” you said. He smiled.

“Let our bodies and our souls be together as one, my beloved,” he said tenderly.

“Oh,” you managed, a little dazed with pleasure at the thought. “Oh, Din, you should say that to me more often.”

He chuckled and settled himself between your legs. “Alright, my love?”

You nodded and carded your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of his curls. He took his time easing into you, catching your moans against his mouth until he was buried to the hilt inside you.

“Beautiful,” he said, like he would never say it enough. He brushed your hair back from your face and studied you with so much love that you couldn’t help but give him a beaming smile.

“That good already?” he asked, low and affectionate.

You laughed softly against his mouth as he kissed you. “It’s always that good, Din. Even just being with you.”

“Hm. I’m not sure if that’s a vastly generous compliment of my company or a low blow at my sexual prowess.”

You really laughed then, and he laughed with you, and it was a heady mix to hear his laughter and feel him deep inside you. You thought of what he’d said - _let our bodies and our souls be together as one._

“I love you,” you said. “And I love your company, and I think you’re mind-blowingly good in bed. How’s that?”

He smiled as he kissed you, and you gave a shaky breath when he started to move.

“Very sweet of you, cyare,” he said affectionately. “I’ll do my best to be mind-blowingly good for you, alright?”

You knew as soon as he snapped his hips against yours, he’d have no problem with that whatsoever. He was slow and patient, as he always was, careful and attentive and tender. He rocked his hips against yours fast enough to make you desperate for him but slow enough to bury himself deeply with each thrust and kiss you like he wanted, making you moan and twist with pleasure beneath him.

“Din,” you said, over and over. His hand found yours and held tightly, like you were the only thing tethering him in the whole galaxy. You felt your pleasure crest between your hips.

“Oh, please, right there,” you said. He rubbed your clit in time with the steady drag of his cock in and out of you, and you knew you were close.

Then, with a clarity that snapped you out of the haze of pleasure and made you gasp with realization, you remembered something _very_ important.

“Din!”

He stopped immediately, hearing the change in your tone; you knew it had to have been hard for him, and his expression held a slight grimace as he looked to you.

“What is it, love?” he asked, breathless. 

You met his eyes and almost didn’t know how to say it.

“Um - I - ” You blushed. “I’m not on my birth control.”

He looked a little bemused, and with good reason - you’d been taking birth control for as long as you’d been married, and you’d never talked about coming off of it.

“You - you what?” he asked. “Since when?”

“I ran out of them,” you explained. You hadn’t meant to come off of them, but you’d completely forgotten it had even happened. “I ran out of them right before we crashed on the frozen planet, and in everything that happened after, I..."

He nodded. “Yeah, I can understand forgetting it in all the confusion.” He glanced between you and then looked back at your face in question.

“Should we stop?”

And oh, you were so in love with him you thought your heart would break with it.

“No,” you said quietly, thinking about your conversation earlier, when the plural “kids” had slipped out, and how much you’d wanted to tell him then and there - you wanted to have another baby with him.

“I...” You felt nervous and shy, even though you knew you didn’t need to - you could be honest with Din, even if you didn’t know what his response would be. Even if he didn’t want more kids, he’d be kind and gentle with you when he told you so.

“I want another baby,” you said softly.

You waited for him to answer, but you saw it on his face before he spoke.

“Really?” he asked, delighted and eager and more in love with you than you deserved. “You really want another baby?”

You nodded, and you couldn't help a smile when he laughed out loud.

“Maker, I love you so much,” he said, kissing you with that big grin on his face. “I want another baby, too. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

You were a bit overwhelmed with relief and happiness and sheer adoration for your husband, and you held his face in your hands as he kissed you.

“Let’s have another baby,” he said.

He looked so beautiful to you just then, his smile soft and warm, his curls catching the firelight, his strong body relaxed and comfortable against you.

“Okay,” you agreed, happier than you had ever been. “Let’s have another baby.”

With a kiss that said just how deeply he loved you, he started to move again, steadily bringing both of you back to the edge you’d very nearly been at before. Each snap of his hips seemed more deliberate now, intentional - he wanted to please you, and he wanted to make a baby with you. You hoped it wouldn’t take long to achieve the latter, but you knew neither of your would mind trying until you got it right.

He drew you to your orgasm with skill and tenderness, and he followed soon after as you tightened around him and breathed his name over and over. He kissed you fervently as you came down from your high in each other’s arms, praising you and thanking you and telling you how happy he was.

He cradled you tenderly against him as he lay beside you, running his fingers over your skin, soothing and gentle. You pressed against him, wanting his warmth, wanting to be as near to him as you could.

“Remind me how you say ‘I love you’ in Mando’a,” you said, putting your hand to his cheek. He smiled.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he said, his voice warm and tired and affectionate. “I hold you in my heart forever.”

You repeated it back to him, fumbling a little on the finer points of the pronunciation - you loved it when he spoke it to you, but Mando’a had never been your strong suit. He didn’t seem to mind, though, as he kissed you and held you closer.

“I love you too,” he said. “I could never tell you how much, cyar’ika.”

You cuddled closer to him as he drew the blankets over you, resting your head against his chest as you listened to the crackling of the fire mix with the sound of his steady breaths that were evening out towards sleepiness. He gently brushed his fingers through your hair and hummed a gentle lullaby, and his kiss on your forehead was the last thing you felt before you fell asleep safely held in your husband’s arms.


	3. Before You Go

You dreamed that you and Din had adopted a very friendly Tusken Massiff, and woke when you determined that the kisses on your face weren’t just from your new pet.

In the moonlight, you made out Din’s face; he was propped up on his arm next to you, giving you gentle kisses on your nose, your cheeks, your brow. You felt it was very sweet of him but couldn’t help a laugh at what your sleepy brain had interpreted his kisses as.

“What’s so funny, my love?” he asked, his voice quiet and amused.

You smiled against his mouth. “You were a Massiff in my dream,” you said. “Just a big, friendly pet who wouldn’t stop giving me kisses.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like me.” He put his hand on your waist and drew you close to him, kissing you properly now that you were awake.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked. You guessed you’d only slept for a few hours, judging by the embers still glowing in the fireplace. 

He tucked your hair behind your ear. “I slept for a bit. But there’s something I need to take care of, and I wanted to see you before I left.”

You sat up a little, and you couldn’t help a petulant frown. “You’re leaving?”

“Just for a little while,” he said. He propped himself up on the pillows next to you and ran his hand up and down your arm to soothe you. “I... have some things to take care of, like I said.”

You could tell he didn’t want to offer any further explanation, and considered it might be another surprise for you. Even if it wasn’t, he was entitled to his privacy, and you let him be.

“When will you be back?” you asked. You eased yourself over him until you were straddling his waist, and you were pleased with how quickly he responded to you. You trailed your fingers over his chest, tracing the scars from wounds that even beskar couldn’t shield him from completely. 

“Late morning,” he said, rubbing circles over your thighs. He smiled up at you. “You probably won’t be awake by then, cyar’ika.”

Though Din was a habitually early riser, you slept in whenever you could. You didn’t get much of a chance for it, what with your toddler and your frequently chaotic life on the run, but it was still a running joke between you.

“Hmm, very funny,” you said, leaning down to give him a kiss. He chuckled against your mouth and brushed your hair behind your ear.

“Make love to me before you go,” you said softly, kissing all along his jaw, his scruff warm on your cheeks. You took his low groan as an affirmative answer and raised on your knees, intending to settle yourself on him, but he put his hands on your hips and drew you towards him.

“Gorgeous,” he said almost reverently as he kissed your stomach. “Every bit of you, cyare. Breathtaking.”

You smiled and gave his hair an affectionate brush-through with your fingers. It was mussed with sleep, curly and a little fluffy; you lightly scratched his scalp and combed your fingers through any wayward tangles.

“Kriff, just do that for the rest of the trip,” he said contentedly. He loved having his hair played with; you often recalled with great fondness the first time you’d brushed your fingers through his curls and he looked like he might melt with happiness.

At the moment, though, you were happy to play with his hair any _other_ time, perhaps some time when you couldn’t feel his cock between your legs. 

“You’re sure there’s nothing else you’d like?” you asked sweetly, slowly pressing your hips against his. His fingers dug into your waist, strong and possessive and needy.

You lowered yourself onto him with practiced ease, but for all that you could have teased him, you gave a quiet, broken moan of pleasure as he filled you. You leaned your head against his, gripping his broad shoulders to steady yourself as you took every inch of him. He gave a heady sigh and a soft, choked groan when you settled into place, stroking his hands over your thighs and hips.

“Stars,” he breathed. “I love you.”

You smiled and kissed him, careful not to move too much; you wanted to just be with him for a moment, letting him fill you as his hands roamed over your skin. He still sucked in a sharp breath when you leaned forward, and you knew it wouldn’t take much to make him come undone. He prided himself on his stamina, and with good reason, but you’d been delighted to learn from previous encounters that straddling him would unravel him quicker than anything else.

“I love you, Din,” you said softly. His fingers glanced over your chest, tracing your collarbone and the curve of your breast. He thumbed the two pendants on your necklace and tugged the chain gently, pulling you closer to him.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde _,”_ he said, punctuating each phrase with a kiss. You didn’t need him to translate that for you - you remembered it from your wedding day. He’d said it perfectly and you’d stumbled over every syllable, but he hadn’t minded.

“We are one when together, we are one when parted,” you said, repeating your vows back to him. “We will share all, we will raise warriors.”

He smiled up at you with that same beaming affection he always had for you; you imagined he’d worn that same smile the first time you said it.

Though your wedding had been on Naboo, with your friends and family, you’d officially been married on Nevarro. A marriage vow was one of the most solemn and treasured vows a Mandalorian could make, and the process was characteristically straightforward: in front of a clan leader, partners said their vows to each other; then, for the first time, they were able to see the face they’d dreamed about for so long.

Din had wanted to give you a beautiful wedding - and he had, months later. At the time, a gang of smugglers had been after him for collecting the bounty on one of their partners, and Din had to leave Nevarro or risk compromising the entire covert. You were to stay there, protected by his clan, until he’d taken care of the gang - and, before he left, he wanted to be married to you. He’d asked you simply and earnestly if you would marry him that very night he was planning to leave, and you had never regretted saying yes.

You’d said your vows before the armorer, and she had declared you a clan of two. Because you hadn’t had a signet yet, the armorer had chipped a small piece from the edge of Din’s chest plate to fashion you a pendant. You still wore it, the little piece of worn red beskar resting with the Mudhorn pendant on your chest as a constant reminder of your vows to the man you loved.

You hadn’t seen him without his helmet that night. You almost hadn’t had time to say goodbye, but Din had taken your hands in his before he left. 

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he’d said. “No matter how far I go, I hold you in my heart, cyar’ika.”

In bed, with the moonlight on his skin and his fingers tracing over your body, he murmured the same thing against your skin.

“A clan of two,” he said after a moment, bringing the red beskar to his lips. Then, with the Mudhorn signet, “A clan of three. What will you wear for our clan of four, cyare?”

You smiled, a bright thread of happiness pulling taut between his heart and yours.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. You loved his attentiveness, the way he treasured little things like the charms around your neck that represented your family. “Maybe a stone from the lake country.” 

You kissed him and gave a soft laugh. “If you give me a baby while we’re here, that is.”

He kissed you back deeply, strong and wanting. “Let me, then.”

His tongue met yours as you started to move, rocking your hips against his. You treasured each little moan and sigh that tumbled from his mouth, going slow, working him into a place of desperate want for you. He held your hips tightly; you’d probably have little bruises there later, but you didn’t mind. Love marks already flushed on his neck from your earlier union, and you revisited those same spots with tender kisses.

 _“Maker,”_ he gasped, pressing you down onto him, his hips rising to meet yours. “You feel so good, cyare.”

You gripped his shoulders as you rode him, your thighs trembling, throwing your head back when he angled himself just right. He held you in his strong arms, protective and possessive; you bit out a curse as he reached between you to circle your clit, tightening around his cock.

“Oh, cyare,” he moaned. “Gedet'ye, cyar’ika.”

You couldn’t help a pleased grin; you knew you had him then. _Please_ in Mando’a was his biggest giveaway, and you nearly came then and there as he said it again in a broken voice.

“Gedet’ye, my love,” he begged as his voice pitched up sweetly. You gave a breathy moan and felt your desire for your husband overcome you. 

“Gonna cum,” you said, gasping when he pressed deeply against your clit. Both of you moved faster, held on tighter to each other, chasing your highs.

“Go on, mesh’la,” he said, tender even as his fingers dug into your waist. “Cum for me.”

A breathless string of curses tumbled from you as you gave into the whited-out pleasure, riding his cock to drag your orgasm out and bring him to his. He wasn’t far behind, and he gave a desperate groan as you sank low on his cock and felt him cum deep inside you.

“Haar'chak, cyar’ika,” he managed, his chest rising unsteadily with his heavy breaths. He brushed your hair back from your face. “How can you undo me so completely? I feel I might break apart with your touch.”

You kissed him all over his face, trying to tell him how much you loved him - you felt that saying it wouldn’t be enough. He ran his hands comfortingly over your body, steadying both of you, bringing you from the ecstasy of your union back to the safety and familiarity of his body against yours in the quiet of a warm summer night.

“Gotal'ur ner kar'ta ti mureyca,” he said against your mouth. “You mend me with your kisses.”

You smiled. That was sweet, and he’d never said it to you before. You pulled back just enough to look at his face, to adore the softness of his expression as he looked up at you with all the love in the world.

“I love you very much,” you said gently. You combed your fingers through his hair and basked in his wobbly, lovesick smile.

“I love you,” he said. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, resting his head on your chest. You ran your fingers over his shoulder and down his back to soothe him, wishing he didn’t have to go.

“Come back as soon as you can, my love,” you said, pressing a kiss to his curls.

He gave a soft groan. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with you for the rest of my life.”

You gave a soft laugh. “Me too, sweetheart.” You loved it when he cuddled against you like this, leaning his head on your chest like a child. As big and strong as he was, his vulnerability was very precious to you, and you would be honored to treasure it as long as you lived.

After a while, he trailed kisses over your chest as he lifted his head and looked at you. You cradled his face in your hands and rubbed your nose gently against his; he chuckled and kissed you tenderly.

“Go back to sleep, cyare,” he said softly. “I’ll be back before you wake again.”

He eased you to lay back on the bed, giving you a few soft kisses as he rose. You watched as he dressed; he looked sleepy and lovely in his shirt and trousers, with that messy hair and the slow movements of early morning. Bit by bit he straightened, his movements crisper and more decisive as he put on his armor; you loved the way his body language responded to each piece of beskar he wore, his confidence and strength evident even in the set of his shoulders and the intentionality of his movements. He was beautiful without his armor, safe and gentle and warm; he was stunning with it on, powerful and strong and self-assured. You knew how lucky you were to have the privilege of knowing and loving both sides of him.

He cradled his helmet in the crook of his arm and gave you one last kiss before he left.

“Back soon, cyare,” he said gently. “Sleep well.”

You reached out for his hand and he took it, his grip steady and familiar even in his gloves.

“I love you,” you said. 

He smiled and raised your hand to give your knuckles a gentle kiss. “I love you too, cyar’ika.”


	4. Perfect for Each Other

You woke to a soft but persistent knock on the front door.

You frowned a little as you wrapped a sheet around you and went to see who it was - surely it was just Din, as nobody else knew you were here. You opened the door and immediately wished you’d taken a moment to make yourself more presentable.

A boy who couldn’t have been older than twelve was standing expectantly on the top step, looking entirely too unbothered by your appearance that would have indicated to anyone a slight bit older what _exactly_ you were staying on Naboo for. You hastily wrapped the sheet around you with more intentionality and tried to tame your sleep-mussed hair.

“Miss Tilyria?” the boy asked.

You almost didn’t know what to say. No one had called you that in ages, and it made you slightly wistful to be on Naboo hearing your maiden name again.

“Yes,” you said, a little hesitantly. You wondered if someone from your past had seen you in the city yesterday. “How can I help?”

The boy gave you a smile and held out a package neatly wrapped in brown paper. “The Mandalorian said I was to bring this to you.”

You took it from him, careful of the wrappings, and smiled to yourself. What had Din gone and surprised you with now?

“He also told me to give you a message,” the boy said seriously, and you knew Din had made it out to be a mission of vital importance. Being on speaking terms with a Mandalorian was a very great honor for the boy, you knew, and you smiled at the thought of Din creating a little adventure to fill the boy’s morning.

“What message is that, darling?” you asked. His accent had taken you back to your youth, and you recalled fondly that children on Naboo were called by terms of endearment whether you knew them or not.

He beamed. “I'm to tell you that the Mandalorian’s work kept him out longer than expected, and he hopes you can accept his apology for being late.”

You cradled the package in your hands, knowing the gift was a part of that apology; Din knew he didn’t need to ply you with gifts to keep himself in your good graces, but it was a sweet gesture all the same.

“And the Mandalorian paid you for your trouble?” you asked.

“Yes, miss,” the boy said, nodding earnestly.

You smiled. “Thank you for helping him, dearest. I know we’re both very grateful to you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a proud smile. “Have a good day, miss!”

You gave him a wave as he scampered off down the steps, singing a little nursery rhyme to himself. You started to hum it too, remembering it from time spent playing with your friends as a child.

You took the package inside, your sheet-dress skimming over the floor as you made your way to the table on the terrace. The morning sun was bright and warm on your shoulders, and you felt a flutter of giddiness in your chest as you opened your present.

“Oh, Din,” you gasped, unfolding the layers of soft sea-green silk organza that fell through your fingers like water. It was the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen, vibrant with delicate flowers of every hue stitched into the bodice and sheer sleeves. The fabric caught the sunlight and little silver butterflies hidden among the flowers shimmered every time the dress moved.

You wanted to put it on as soon as you took it out of the wrapping, but you made yourself be patient. You carefully folded it back up and placed it on the settee; your fingers trailed lovingly over the fabric for a moment before you untucked the sheet you wore and put it back on the bed. Your new dress - and the man who’d bought it for you - deserved you looking your best, and you took your time getting ready.

You lathered yourself with flowery soap in the shower, soothing any remaining ache that lingered from your time on the frozen planet. This trip had been just what you and Din needed, and though you knew you’d have to go back to the more demanding pace of your life soon enough, you savored the time you had to simply _be_ with your husband. You rubbed sweet-smelling lotion into your skin as you dried off in the sun, hoping your Mandalorian wouldn’t be too much later in returning to you.

It felt more luxurious than anything you’d done in a long time to lay out on the terrace with nothing on you but the sunshine, letting your hair dry with the slight breeze as you stretched out on the reclining chair and listened to the birdsong. The terrace was hedged on both sides by flowering bushes and willow trees, leaving you safe from any prying eyes, and you drank in the feel of the sun’s warmth all over your body.

When you couldn’t keep your excitement in check any longer, you went back inside and unfurled the dress again. It was _so_ beautiful, more beautiful than any dress you’d owned before you married. You put it on carefully, minding the little silk blooms; it settled a little off your shoulders and swirled over the floor, and you positively glowed with happiness. You were not surprised that it fit perfectly - it was very like Din to know the details of your sizing, as attentive as he was.

You sat at the vanity and added the barest touch of makeup, glossing your lips a little and twining small flowers into your hair. You felt more beautiful than you had in a long time, and you couldn’t wait for your husband to come back so you could thank him.

You didn’t have to wait long. You were tucking the last of the flowers into your hair, trying to make them sit just so, when the door opened behind you. You caught a glimpse of beskar in the mirror and turned with a beaming smile on your face.

“Din!” you said happily, rushing over to him, the hem of your dress trailing behind you over the floor. You threw your arms around his neck and he caught you against him on instinct.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” you said sincerely, looking up at his helmet. You waited for a beat, perhaps a little selfishly, for him to comment on your dress, but he said nothing.

You pulled back and twirled for him; your dress belled out around you and you couldn’t help a giggle at the feeling of the soft fabric. You felt like a princess, and you hoped Din liked it as much as you did.

You gave him an expectant smile, but he still didn’t say anything - he hadn’t removed his helmet, either, so you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. You felt a sudden flurry of nervousness, casting about for reasons why he wouldn’t be happy. Perhaps it hadn’t been meant for you at all - but no, it could _only_ have been for you. What other Mandalorian knew your maiden name and would send you a gift in the first place? 

Perhaps he’d been intending for you to wait to put it on, in which case you could better understand his upset, but still didn’t know why he’d be downright sullen about it to the point of not speaking to you. Then, the worst thought of all - maybe he was angry with you because you hadn’t thanked him, and he felt you were taking his generosity for granted.

Rationally you knew that didn’t seem like him at all, but it didn’t take much for the idea to settle. It _was_ too grand and beautiful of a gift; you probably _hadn’t_ been able to afford it, not really. You suddenly felt much less dazzling than you had, and felt a little embarrassed to be flaunting his gift without even having thanked him.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, your voice soft with nervousness. You crossed your arms over your chest defensively and couldn’t look up at him.

“Sorry?” he asked. The first thing he’d said to you, and it sounded entirely bewildered even though the modulator. “What are you sorry for?”

You worried the petals of one of the little silk flowers. “I didn’t...” You made yourself look up at him, imploring him to understand you. “I love the dress, Din, more than you know. I know didn’t even thank you for it, and I didn’t mean to make you upset with me, because I - ”

“Cyare,” he said, gently cutting you off. He took off his helmet then and held it under his arm, and you felt a measure of relief when you saw his expression was nothing but kind.

“I’m not upset with you,” he assured you quickly. “You don’t have to thank me. I...” He looked a little bashful. “It was a gift, and I hoped you would like it, and I’m very glad you do. I wasn’t looking for thanks, cyare.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling a mix of relief and confusion and a fair bit of sheepishness. Of course he hadn’t been withholding his affection because you hadn’t thanked him. You were foolish to have ever thought so.

And yet...

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you asked softly, still a little hurt and confused by his lackluster greeting.

He looked very, _very_ apologetic at that.

“I wanted to,” he hurried to explain. “I just... I know it sounds like an excuse but you were so breathtaking, running over to me like that in your new dress, and I absolutely couldn't think of anything intelligent to say to you. Nothing that would have done justice to how radiant and lovely you look right now.”

 _“Oh,”_ you said again. You felt your cheeks warm at the look of heartfelt longing on his face.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he said. “I know I must have. But, cyar’ika...”

He closed the distance between you, and you felt a thrill of desire and affection wash through you at your big, beskar-clad husband looking at you so lovingly.

“You are the most captivating thing I have ever laid eyes on,” he said tenderly, ardently. He tipped your face up with a gentle touch. “In all the galaxy, there is nothing as beautiful as you.”

You let him kiss you, dazed with how much you loved him. You felt a secret bit of pride that you’d so undone your Mandalorian as to render him speechless, and for as lovely as the dress had made you feel, a word from Din could make you feel that beautiful no matter what you wore.

“Thank you,” you said, shy and earnest. You showered his face in kisses, and he laughed.

“You’re welcome, cyare,” he said warmly. “I’m very happy you like it.”

You pressed closer to him, feeling the cool of his beskar through the fabric of your dress. “Come have lunch with me on the terrace,” you said. “You’re probably hungry after all that very important errand-running, aren’t you?”

He hummed in agreement. “A little,” he admitted. “Let me clean up a bit before I join you, alright?”

You relinquished your hold on him with a parting kiss. “Don’t take too long, my love.”

You set yourself to putting lunch out on the table by the pool while he removed his armor and went for a shower. The pantry had all sorts of delicious food you hadn’t enjoyed in a long time - fruits and cheese and bottles of sunberry wine. Most of what you had aboard the Crest was good but not quite so frivolous, and you were glad you didn’t have to worry about cooking a whole meal.

Din came out looking refreshed, his curls damp and his scruff a little more neatly trimmed. He’d dressed in a soft white shirt and dark trousers, and you were happy to see him so relaxed as he took his glass of wine and tapped it against yours in greeting.

“Thank you for making lunch, cyar’ika,” he said.

You smiled. “You’re welcome. It took a lot of effort to get it set up so pretty for you.”

He chuckled and picked an orange from the fruit bowl. “What did you get up to while I was gone?”

You took half of the orange slices when he offered them to you. “I was asleep until your little friend came knocking.”

“How did that go? At first I thought it was clever of me to use your maiden name, and then I remembered that anyone who knows here would know you by that name.”

He touched a few fingers to his temple to indicate his foolishness, and it was such an endearing little gesture that you couldn’t help a laugh.

“It was a little surprising to hear it,” you admitted. “It was kind of nice, but not as nice as being called Mrs. Djarin.”

You followed him over to the balcony, watching as he leaned on the railing and looked out at the mountains.

He thumbed the rim of his wine glass. “I’m sorry you don’t get called that very often,” he said. He looked over at you. “I can’t imagine it’s any easier for you than it is for me to stay so... anonymous.”

To your knowledge, only a handful of people knew his name - you, Cara, Greef, and Omera. Your parents, too, and you knew how much it meant that he’d given them his full name when he asked to court you. Part of it was just the anonymity that Mandalorians valued so highly - they were simply harder to find if you didn’t know their names or faces.

The other part had come with your baby: now that you were technically on the run, his name was the most valuable piece of information the New Republic or Imperial warlords could get their hands on. Din Djarin was a man with a past, with a link to something they could use as leverage; a nameless Mandalorian was just that, and there were an indeterminate number of them to sift through to find the right person. 

For you to be called by his last name would be very risky for all of you, so in most cases, you were merely “the Mandalorian’s wife”. Some encounters were better left completely void of your attachment to him at all, and you had played the part of the nursemaid more than once. You’d had to play a slave girl once, and _that_ had sent your husband into an emotional turmoil you had a hard time untangling. You eventually realized he was torn between guilt at feeling like he’d degraded you and a wild, irresistible lust for you, and you helped him work that out in a way that ended with your skimpy little costume shredded on the floor of the Crest’s refresher.

There at the balcony, you ran an affectionate hand over his back and tried to ease the slight tension he held across his shoulders.

“Thank you for saying so,” you said gently. “I wish we didn’t have to be so careful about it, but if it keeps you and our baby safe, it’s alright if you’re the only one who calls me that.”

He looked over at you and smiled. “I love you, Mrs. Djarin.”

You leaned close and kissed him; he was sweet with wine and fruit, and his cheeks were warm with sunshine.

“You look so pretty in your new dress, cyar’ika,” he said sweetly. He nosed against your jaw and breathed deeply. “You smell nice, too.”

You gave a soft laugh. “I wanted to get all dolled up for you,” you said. “It’s not every day we get to lounge around without a toddler to mind or a ship to pilot.”

He set his wine glass on the railing and put his hands on your waist, drawing you close. “We should get back to them in a few days,” he said. “I don’t want to leave him for too long.”

“Me either,” you said truthfully, though with the way your husband was kissing your neck, you weren’t sure anything could have convinced you to leave just then.

“But for right now, I want to be here with you,” he said, dipping his head to kiss your collarbone. “And I want to see what’s under that pretty new dress of yours.”

You bit your lip as he sank to his knees in front of you, steadying yourself against the railing as he took the hem of your dress and tucked it neatly into the ribbon belt. 

He gave an appreciative hum. “Well, then. Nothing under your dress, I see. How scandalous of you, Mrs. Djarin.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your thigh. “Seems like you were hoping this afternoon might go a certain way, hm?”

You almost rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself. 

“You’d never have known if you hadn’t been so keen to look, Mando,” you said cooly.

He looked up at you and grinned. “Fine, you got me.” He traced his fingers over the backs of your thighs. “May I show you just how much I like you in this dress, my love?”

You nodded, every bit of your cool, teasing demeanor lost to you as he gently brought your leg over his shoulder.

“Din,” you breathed, gripping the railing as his tongue parted your folds and started in on you with an admirable enthusiasm. You leaned your head back as he lapped at your heat; he was being a bit less careful than usual, but no less skillful. You gave a breathy moan as he sucked on your clit, and his own groan of desire made you shudder with pleasure.

“Oh, Din, _Din - ”_ you gasped, feeling yourself quickly lose any thread of control as he eased his fingers inside of you, his tongue still on your clit. He curled his fingers inside of you and you quickly came undone, tangling your fingers in his hair as you moaned his name through your orgasm.

“Love it when you call my name like that,” he said, standing to give you a bruising kiss. Your legs still shook with pleasure and you steadied yourself against him, bracketed protectively by his arms as he held your waist.

“I want to try something,” he said. His voice was rough with desire, and you didn’t think you could deny him anything in your power to give.

“Okay,” you agreed. He picked you up by your waist and sat you on the balcony railing; in a brief panic, you grabbed at his shoulders and pressed closer to him.

He chuckled. “I’m not going to let you fall, cyar’ika,” he said, holding you close to comfort you for a moment. He sucked love marks into your neck and circled your waist with his arm.

“Let me take you right here, cyare,” he said. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

And oh, you would have said yes in a heartbeat to something like that, his possessiveness alone enough to flood your whole body with heat. You were still a little uneasy with the balcony, though, and wanted convincing.

“And if I tumble right off to my death?” you asked.

He smiled against your skin. “You won’t, I promise. I’ve tussled with things a lot bigger than you, and falling off a cliff wasn’t what killed them.”

“No?” you asked. His hands on your breasts were awfully distracting.

“I am a man of _some_ honor,” he said, kissing the top of your breastbone. “And I figure letting someone tumble off a cliff isn’t a very noble kill.”

“Oh, well, that’s reassuring,” you said. “You’ll keep me close when you kill me, then.”

He laughed. “No one’s killing anyone, cyar’ika. You trust me, don’t you?”

He had you there, and he knew it. “Of course I trust you, Din.”

“Okay then,” he said with a smile, punctuating it with a kiss. “Relax, cyare. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You let yourself sink into his touch, cradling his face as he kissed you. He kept one arm around you, steady and safe, and gave his cock a few quick strokes before he settled himself between your legs.

“Easy, cyar’ika,” he said affectionately as you held tightly to him. You hooked your legs around his waist as he pushed into you, leaning back against his hand that rested steadily on the small of your back, taking him as deeply as you could. You kind of liked it, the headiness of depending on him so completely to keep you safe as you took him inside of you.

“Maker,” he breathed. “You take me so well, my love.”

That was certainly a compliment, considering how well-endowed he was. You remembered how wide-eyed you’d been at him your first night together, and how he’d lavished you with praise for how well you’d done.

That night, he’d whisked you away to your love nest after all the guests were gone, both of you eager for him to finally remove his helmet for you and take you to bed for the first time. The place you’d honeymooned was nearer to your village in the country, a small lake house that had been in your family for generations and had probably seen many a young bride and her new husband discover each other. Din had been very slow and gentle with you, and despite neither of you knowing what you were doing, it ended up an enjoyable night for both of you.

It seemed your husband was remembering that night too.

“I thought you would break, the first time you took me inside of you,” he said. He laughed a little and you felt his cheeks warm against yours.

“That sounded awfully prideful, forgive me,” he amended. “I really have no clue how I compare to anyone else in terms of... size, so I shouldn’t be very big-headed about it.”

You laughed and kissed his cheek, endeared by his humility. “Let me put it this way, darling,” you said. “You’re _very_ well-hung.”

He laughed out loud at that, bright and warm and beautiful.

“Well, that’s encouraging to know,” he said. “Thank you, cyare.”

You smiled when you kissed him.

“I was just so afraid to hurt you,” he said, his hands wandering over you. “I was so used to violence, and you were the softest, most beautiful thing I’d touched in all my life. I didn’t know if I could... if I was good enough, or kind enough to treat you how you deserved.”

Despite your nervousness that night, you’d known he wouldn’t hurt you. Din was incapable of it, of _really_ hurting you, and even at his roughest he was still an attentive and selfless lover.

“I thought I would break too,” you said, teasing him gently. “But we fit together, you and me - perfect for each other.”

He started to move, and you sighed against his shoulder as he drew out of you and sheathed himself to the hilt again. He took his time and built up your pace slowly, kissing you deeply. You gripped his shoulders as he snapped his hips against yours.

“Perfect for each other,” he agreed against your skin, running his hands over your thigh. “Ner mesh’la riduur.”

“Din,” you managed, giving a broken gasp when he reached between you to circle your clit. _Maker,_ he was so good to you. You carded your fingers through his hair and raised your legs to draw him deeper.

You moaned his name as he took you, possessive and a little rough with pleasure. Like he'd wanted, everyone within hearing distance of your balcony heard who exactly was bedding you so well.

“I’m close, cyare,” he groaned into your neck. You felt yourself tighten around him and leaned your head back in pleasure.

“Me too,” you gasped. “Cum with me, please.”

He gave one, two, three more strokes, circling your clit as he buried himself deep inside you and came with a desperate groan. You came when he did, riding out his last sloppy thrusts as he rubbed you through your orgasm.

“Osi’kyr,” he breathed as he kissed you.

“You only say that when we get into dogfights,” you said with a laugh. Without fail, every time he had to do some fancy flying to get someone off your tail, you’d hear that exclamation from the cockpit.

He gave a tired laugh. “Yes, well, I’d much rather be saying it with you than while trying to get away from some X-Wings.”

He pulled out of you and you drew him close, wanting him against you still. You brushed his curls back from his face.

“Thanks for not letting me fall off the balcony,” you said with a kiss.

“Any time, cyar’ika,” he said, and you could feel his smile against your mouth. 

You spent the rest of the day on the terrace, dipping your feet in the pool and sharing slices of shuura fruit and oranges. You got wine and sun-drunk, both of you giggling like school kids at funny stories you took turns telling and little jokes you'd built up with each other over the years. You loved that nothing had to take him away from you - he could stay, as long as he wanted, and you hung off him as if to make up for all of the times you couldn't.

"You're tired of me, aren't you?" you teased. He'd found a seat at the table while you went in to get another bottle of wine, and instead of getting your own chair, you were sitting in his lap.

He smiled as you kissed over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, pink and warm with the sun.

"No," he said sincerely. "I could never be tired of you."

He traced patterns against your hips, content you let you kiss him as the sun started to set. The air was steadily growing cooler, and you cuddled closer to him.

"Would you like to live here?" he asked. "If we ever got the chance to settle down?"

You smiled. "You mean if you and our son ever stop being fugitives from the law?"

He chuckled. "If we're ever lucky enough for that to happen, yes."

You considered that, looking out over the mountains as the sun sank behind them and cast marvelous pinks and oranges over the surface of the lake. 

"I hadn't really thought about it," you admitted. "It's hard to plan or dream about our future when everything seems so immediate, day to day. Of course I would love for our children to grow up somewhere safe, but if that's the Crest, then I'd be just as happy there as anywhere else."

He curled his arm around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Do you think so?" he asked, and you knew he wasn't sure you were telling the truth, whether consciously or not.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. The Crest is the only place I've called home, really. And I know it's your home too, but you grew up on one planet, with the same friends and school teachers through your whole childhood. You don't want that for our kids?"

You drew his hand over your stomach and held it there, drawing circles over his knuckles. You hoped you would be pregnant soon - now that you knew it was what you both wanted, you found yourself daydreaming about how different and wonderful your life would be with a new baby.

It would be hard to have two babies on the Crest. There really wasn’t room for a family of four; it was a bachelor’s ship, and you’d made it comfortable enough for the three of you, but it would only get harder if you had more children. You didn’t _want_ to leave the Crest - it was your home, your first home with your husband, familiar and safe like an old friend. But Din was right; if you were honest with yourself, you had envisioned your children growing up like you had, not with the transient childhood that Din had gone through.

You sighed. “I don’t know,” you said. “I guess I do. But...”

You trailed off, unsure you even wanted to talk about something that seemed so unachievable. Of course you wanted to settle down with him and raise your family - but it wasn’t feasible right now, and it made you confused and sad to think about it.

He sensed your hesitation and twined his fingers with yours.

“It’s ok,” he said. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You ran your fingers over his collarbone. “I want to talk about it sometime,” you said. “When we’re closer to being able to do it, you know? Right now everything just seems so... jumbled.”

His laugh was a little melancholic. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You were both quiet for a moment; then, sensing your lovers’ getaway drifting into more serious territory than you wanted, you sat up and gave him a quick, deep kiss.

“We have our whole lives to worry about those sorts of things,” you said. You stood and offered him a hand. “Come on, Mando. Let’s go jump on the bed or something.”

He grinned up at you as he took your hand. “Don’t fuss if I start a pillow fight, then.”

You smirked. “I won’t fuss if you let me win.”

He let you kiss him and take him by the hand; your worries about the future were soon forgotten in a flurry of feathers, and you held on to every single moment like it was something precious.


	5. Home of My Heart

The rest of your trip passed blissfully. You drank up every moment you had with your husband, careful not to let any moment pass without a grateful appreciation of it. It would be a long time before you could indulge in such a long, restful trip like this again, and there was much to be done when you returned to your “real” life. Until then, though, you and Din both enjoyed your time together.

He took you dancing one night, in the city square where musicians played as the sun set. He was graceful even in his armor, and the pair of you caught many curious gazes. Mandalorians weren’t known for dancing, but Din was open and friendly to everyone around you; when you stopped to catch your breath for a dance, Din had a gaggle of children asking him to dance with them. He let them stand on his boots while they danced and allowed them to put their little hands on the shiny beskar that entranced them so, a laugh coming through his vocoder whenever one of the children called it “pretty”. It reminded you of the way he played with your baby; as you often did, you found yourself very glad you had married a man so gentle and kind to children.

You asked him to take you to the beach, and he very selflessly obliged you, even if it meant tramping over the sand in full armor. He declined to go near the water and settled on a dune nearby to watch as you let the waves run over your feet. You smiled as you watched him - he was a funny sight, in all his beskar, sitting on the sand like he hadn’t a care in the world. You waved to him and were pleased when he waved back.

“How _do_ Mandalorians enjoy any leisure time in full armor?” you asked, walking up the beach to sit next to him. You buried your feet in the warm sand and leaned your head on his shoulder.

He laughed. “We don’t really do leisure, cyare. At least, I’ve never known a Mandalorian who didn’t have full armor on every time they left the covert.”

You traced your fingers over his chest plate; your fingers were still wet from the water, and you left little droplets over the surface of the beskar.

“What if you had to dive in the water and save me?” you asked. You’d pestered him with hypothetical, Mandalorian-related questions often enough to know he didn’t mind them, and in fact liked giving you the answers you sought. “Wouldn’t your armor be very heavy?”

“Yes, it would,” he said. “We had to do training exercises, when I was younger, to make sure we were strong enough to swim with our armor on.”

“But you’d do it for me.”

You knew he was smiling under the helm. “Yes, cyar’ika. I’d do it for you.”

You laid back on the sand, shaded from the sun by his broad shoulders. “And what if you wanted to make love to a beautiful woman on the beach?” you asked.

He patted your thigh. “I’d say I wouldn't be caught dead with my armor off like that, and the sand would make it miserable anyways. Even as much as I wanted to.”

You laughed and pulled on his arm to lift yourself back up, resting your head against his back. You ran your hand under his cloak, settling between his shoulder blades.

“Can you feel my hand?” you asked. He wore so many layers that you sometimes couldn’t tell if he could feel you or not.

He hummed in agreement. “I always feel you, cyare. Your touch could go through beskar.”

You smiled. “You’re very sweet to me, you know that?”

He looked over at you and gently bumped his helm against your head. 

“I love you,” he said simply.

You stayed like that for a while, listening to the sound of the waves and the lake birds. A mother and her two children claimed a spot a little down the beach from you, and the sound of the children’s laughter mixed with the sound of the surf.

The littlest one couldn’t have been but two years old, toddling with his older sister down to the water to gleefully splash in the gentle waves. You smiled as you watched them play, and weren’t entirely surprised when you felt an ache in your chest at it.

“I miss our baby,” you said.

He straightened; you knew he’d been watching the children too.

“I miss him too,” he said. “I was thinking how much he would like it here.”

You laughed a little. You could just imagine the kinds of mischief your little one would get up to, running headfirst into the water in search of fish eggs to snack on.

“We’ll bring him, one day,” you said. “My parents miss him, and one day we’ll be safe enough to come and stay for a long time.”

Din’s hand found yours, and you held on tightly.

“Thank you for your patience with... all of it,” he said sincerely. “And your faith in me. After some of the things I’ve gotten us into, I sometimes can’t believe you put up with me.”

You gave a soft laugh and wrapped your arm around his, resting on his solid, steady frame.

“Fair’s fair,” you said. “You put up with me, so it’s the least I can do. Besides, my life would be so boring if I’d stayed here.”

He chuckled. “I guess that’s one word for it.”

He watched the children playing, building a sandcastle just near enough to the water that the waves would eventually topple it. 

“We should head to Sorgan tomorrow,” he said. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Wherever you go, I go,” you said simply. If he thought it was best, you’d leave Naboo tomorrow and gather your son before you headed off wherever in the galaxy he needed to go next.

You touched your knuckles to his neck, right under the lip of his helmet. He pulled away from you a little and actually _giggled._

“You hate it when I do that, don’t you?” you asked, amused. You could listen to his laugh forever, especially one as surprising and joyful as that.

“No, I don’t hate it,” he said, and you could hear his smile. He relaxed against you again. “I’m just ticklish, that’s all.”

“I won’t tell anybody,” you teased. “It’s very cute, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

He grabbed you by the waist and tickled you mercilessly until you conceded defeat, doubled over in laughter as you grabbed hold of his hands. He held you close to him, chuckling he listened to you laugh, and you were so glad you were married to him. You were so glad you loved a man as kind and good as he was, with hands that would only ever touch you in love, with a body that would defend you until his last breath, with a heart so deeply bonded to yours that to love him was as easy as breathing.

“You have to teach me more Mando’a,” you said.

He chuckled. “Okay,” he agreed. “Just in general? Or is there something specific you want to know how to say?”

“Well, both,” you admitted. “But right now I wish I could say something to you.” 

You felt a little embarrassed - maybe it was silly of you to want to speak his own language to him. “Even though I probably won’t pronounce it right and I should probably just stick to Basic.”

“I don’t mind,” he said sweetly. “I love your voice no matter what language you speak, even if your pronunciation is terrible.”

You gave him a light nudge with your shoulder, drawing a gentle laugh through his modulator.

“I’d love to teach you Mando’a if you want,” he said.

“You won’t ever make fun of me?”

“No, love. I won’t make fun of you.” He rested his helm against your head. “Tell me what you want to say, cyar’ika.”

You brought your hand to rest on the side of his helm. “Teach me... ‘you are my heart’s home’.”

“Hm. That would be... _gar ner yaim be kar’ta._ You are the home of my heart.”

You repeated it back to him. “How was that?”

“Perfect,” he said. “You’re the home of my heart, too.”

You put your arms around his neck and let him hold you. On Naboo or on the Crest, on the run or on a warm summer afternoon, it would be the same no matter where you were. He was your home, and you were his, no matter where in the galaxy you went.

You carefully packed away your beautiful dress in your chest of clothes aboard the Crest, taking the time to wrap it back in its paper and place it so it wouldn’t wrinkle. You didn’t know when you’d be able to wear it again, but you cherished it and the kindness of your husband in giving it to you. The memory of it would serve you well until you could put it on again.

Din finished his once-over of the ship, checking to make sure everything was as it should be, and called you up to the cockpit as he started the power-up sequence. The Crest hummed pleasantly as her engines came to life under Din’s familiar hand, and your emotions were a little bittersweet as you listened to the Crest and looked out at the bay and the docks filled with people coming and going from their ships.

“You alright?”

You started a little at the sound of his voice, even gentle as it was, but he steadied you with a hand on the small of your back.

He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, affectionately running his thumb back and forth. “Everything ok?”

You hadn’t taken your usual seat behind him, even though you knew he was ready to leave and the Crest awaited his direction. You turned to face him.

“Yes, sorry,” you said. “I was just... people-watching, I guess. You’re ready to go?”

He hummed in agreement. “Everything’s set. But you can people-watch for a few more minutes, if you want.”

You smiled. He understood your reluctance to leave and wanted to make it easier on you if he could. You reached your hand out towards him and he took it without hesitation.

“You’ll miss it, won’t you?” he asked. There was no judgement in his tone, only understanding and sympathy.

You sighed. “Yes, I will,” you admitted. You squeezed his hand. “But I’m ready to see our baby, and we have things to do. It’s time to go.”

He tugged you towards him, gently, and spread his knees for you to stand between them. He looked up at you, cocking his head slightly as he studied your face.

“How did a pretty thing like you end up with someone like me?” he asked. “Weren’t there any ruggedly handsome guys on Naboo who wanted to marry you?”

You smiled. “I had an offer or two,” you teased. You had in fact gotten one marriage proposal before Din’s, but it had been from an arrogant young man who hadn’t bothered to woo you at all - perhaps thinking his proposal was flattering enough - and saw you as nothing more than another achievement to add to his list.

Even with his helmet on, you could read your husband’s distaste as plain as day.

“Don’t remind me,” he said, his tone just as uneasy as the day you’d first told him that story. “I was only being rhetorical when I asked.”

You laughed, genuine and deep and full of love for him. You felt his gentle grip on your waist tighten with affection, and you kissed the top of his helm.

“I’m glad I didn’t accept any other proposals,” you said needlessly. Din knew that, but you thought he might like to be reminded every so often. You rested your hand on his shoulder, toying with the fabric of his cloak.

“I didn’t want to marry any of the ruggedly handsome guys on Naboo,” you said. “I wanted to marry a very religious man who could have been a Gungan, for all I knew.”

Din snorted. You giggled and drew his hand up so you could pepper gentle kisses across his knuckles.

“I wanted to marry someone with kind eyes and an easy smile,” you said gently. “I wanted to marry someone with beautiful curly hair and big, strong shoulders. Someone who loves to laugh with me and takes care of me and my babies.”

You pressed his knuckles to your mouth and looked steadily into his visor, knowing you had his full attention. He was sweetly willing against your touch, allowing you to take your time, waiting for you to speak again.

“I wanted to marry someone who takes me on grand adventures across the stars,” you said.

He didn’t say anything, and you wondered what he was thinking. He released his hold on your waist and took his hand from yours, and you briefly worried that you’d offended him somehow. Your fears were soothed as he reached up to take off his helmet and set it on his thigh. The deep love and unwavering devotion in his expression warmed you from head to toe, and you couldn’t help a lovesick smile as he pulled you down to sit on his lap.

“I love you,” he said. You knew it meant a million things he couldn’t figure out how to say, and you leaned closer against him as he put his arm around your waist.

“I love you,” you said back. His curls were mussed, as they always were when he first took his helmet off, and you brushed your fingers through them.

He smiled. “Happy with your scruffy Mandalorian who takes you on grand adventures and gets into trouble with the law for getting you a baby?”

You beamed at him. “Perfectly,” you said. “I wouldn’t have you any other way, Din Djarin.”

He kissed you deeply, drawing you close to him; you put your arms around his neck and let him hold you. 

After a few long moments you spent lost in each other, the Crest started a soft, slightly impatient alarm to indicate she was ready and waiting. Din fumbled around blindly to shut it off, still kissing you, and you laughed against his mouth.

“You other lady’s getting jealous,” you teased.

He gave you quick, gentle kisses all over your face. “Let her,” he said. “I want you.”

His desire for you never failed to spark the same in response, but you knew it was time to go. The harbormaster had been informed, and the Crest was ready to take off, and you’d sent a message to Omera letting her know to expect you. There would be plenty of time for lovemaking later.

But oh, his kisses were heady, and the promises of what would come if you let him take you to bed called you like a siren’s song. You pulled back from him with some difficulty, giving a soft laugh at his insistence and your own hesitation.

“More later,” you said, giving him one last, consoling kiss. He accepted it gratefully, but his hand still lingered on your waist as you stood from his lap.

“You drive me crazy, woman,” he said affectionately.

Kriff, you wanted to get back in his lap and kiss him silly. You took his helmet in both hands and lowered it onto his head, hoping not being able to see his expression would ease your longing a little.

He looked up at you with that steady, unreadable gaze, and you knew it hadn’t worked. Instead of making you less keen for him, it turned to something different, something that wasn’t hungry for his gentleness so much as his dominance. You almost blushed at the thought. 

“What?” he asked, and you could hear his smirk through the modulator. “Oh, love. Did you think the helmet would make it any easier?”

You laughed and shoved his shoulder. _“Din.”_

He rapped his knuckles over the side of it. “We both know you fell madly in love with this tin can, cyare. Beskar’s the way to your heart.”

You leaned a hand on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to the corner of the T-visor, right over his cheek. “Fine, you got me. Beskar’s the way to my heart.”

He gave a satisfied hum, pleased with your agreement. Though your desire for each other still sparked between you, it settled into a comfortable warmth that would keep until you had more time to enjoy it. You perched into your usual seat and he finally obliged the Crest and eased her into flight, both of you settling in for the trip to Sorgan.


	6. The Thing About Love

“Mr. and Mrs. Djarin!”

You couldn’t help a smile at the exuberant greeting as you made your way down the lane, warmth and light spilling out of the little huts on either side. Winta ran up to meet you, leaving the group of children playing together in the warm evening air, their toys spread out amongst them as they laughed and chattered with each other. Your baby was playing happily with two other children and a pile of toy soldiers. You didn’t call for him, even though you wanted to hold him; you’d be leaving soon, and you wanted to let him play with his friends a little longer.

Winta stopped in front of Din, the toy Pelta-class medical ship in her hands all but forgotten.

“Are you here for the baby?” she asked, the slight edge of hesitation to her voice indicating she was hoping you were here for a different reason.

“Afraid so,” Din told her, sympathy and amusement coloring his voice. You both knew your little one had a devoted friend in Winta, and he’d be just as sad to leave her as she would be to see him go.

Her shoulders slumped, but she quickly recovered her manners. 

“Well, thank you for letting him stay for a while,” she said sincerely, looking up at both of you with an earnest expression.

You smiled. “You’re welcome,” you said. “You had a fun time together?”

She beamed. “Yes!” She gestured back to the other children, then to the toy in her hands. “We were just playing that we were in the Clone Wars, but the hospital ship’s lights won’t turn on.”

Din hunkered down to her height and extended his hands. “May I see?”

Winta handed her toy to him, watching as he took out his vibroblade and began to tinker with it. His big hands were steady even on the toy’s littlest parts, and he soon had the lights working as they should.

“Thank you, Mr. Djarin,” Winta said, almost in awe as he handed the toy back to her. He put his knife away and gave her hair an affectionate ruffle as he stood.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Could you do me a favor and tell your mom we’re here?”

“Sure,” she agreed. With a parting smile, she skipped off in the direction of her house, cradling her newly-fixed toy close to her chest.

Din watched her go. “Strange to think about kids playing at the Clone Wars, isn’t it?”

“A little,” you agreed. “Though probably more for you than it is for me. I don’t remember them at all.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” he mused, looking at you. “You were only a baby, right?”

You nodded. “I was born the year they started.” You knew Din had been rescued in the last year of the conflict, and wondered how he felt about his son playacting it with a bunch of toy soldiers.

“Does it bother you?” you asked.

“Them playing it?” he asked. He shrugged when you nodded.

“Not really,” he said. “I played like that when I was little. We mostly stuck to the legends of the Mandalorian Crusades, which were thousands of years ago, but it’s... comforting, I guess, that little ones are so removed from the war I lived through that they can make it a game.”

“I think my parents thought the same about the Battle of Naboo,” you said. “We played it all time, in the field where it happened, and mother made us costumes and everything. I always wanted to be Queen Amidala.”

You smiled at the memory. “I stuck bird feathers in my hair to make a headdress,” you remembered. “Even though the queen probably wasn’t wearing her fancy clothes during the battle.”

Din chuckled. “Probably not,” he agreed.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a happy babble, and you looked to see your little one toddling over, a grin on his face and a toy clutched in his claws. He gave you uppy arms and you happily scooped him up, cuddling him close and giving him kisses.

“Hello, my little love,” you cooed, secretly pleased that he’d noticed you were here and had decided you were worth leaving his game for. He touched a hand to your cheek and giggled when you kissed his ears.

“Did you know mama missed you very much?” you said. He gave you a questioning coo, and you smiled. “Yes, I did miss you very much. Your daddy missed you too.”

He turned his head to find Din, then broke into a beaming grin when he spotted him. Din moved closer to you and put a hand on your back as he offered his other hand to your baby.

“Su cuy'gar, ad’ika,” Din greeted, his smile unmistakable through the vocoder as the baby wrapped his hand around Din’s finger. “I missed you.”

Your baby gave an excited babble and held his toy up for his dad to see.

“I know, you’ve got a very nice toy,” Din said with interest and affection. “You had fun playing, didn’t you?”

You knew Din wanted to have his chance to cuddle your son, and you handed him over with a parting kiss. Din cradled him against his chest, listening to your baby’s incoherent but impassioned chatter as he waved his toy around. Your husband responded with “wow!” and “I know!” when appropriate, knowing your son was telling him _something_ but unsure what it was. You smiled as you watched them. As happy as you had been to have time alone with your husband, you were happy that your little family was back together.

“You’re here!”

Both you and Din turned to see Omera greeting you with open arms, and you fell willingly into a tight, affectionate hug from your friend. She hugged Din next, careful of the baby, and looked at both of you with a warm smile.

“You look well-rested,” she said. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Yes,” you said sincerely. “It was wonderful. Thank you so much for watching him.”

She gave a dismissive wave. “We were happy to have him. He’s played from sunup to sundown every day.”

The baby had found his toy made an interesting clinking noise when tapped against his dad’s arm plate, and Din covered the buttons on his vambrace so nothing would get set off accidentally.

“He was good?” Din asked. “Minded his manners?”

Omera smiled. “He was perfect,” she assured him. “No trouble at all.” She glanced up at the sun that had just started to set, then back at the two of you.

“Can you stay at all?” she asked. “I know you’re probably anxious to be going soon, but I have the kettle on if you’d like to at least have some tea before you go.”

You looked up at Din. You knew you couldn’t stay the night; he preferred to set course for Trask as soon as possible, but you did want to spend a little more time with your friend if you could.

“Can we stay for tea?” you asked.

He nodded. “Yes. I’d like us to be headed to the Crest before dark, though, if that’s alright.”

You smiled. “Okay,” you agreed. “Thank you.”

You looped your arm through Omera’s and walked with her towards her home, happy to let Din hold the baby while you told your friend all about your vacation. You’d become very close the first time you stayed on Sorgan, just after you’d gotten your baby - she was an invaluable help to you as you learned the ropes of motherhood, and she was a deeply caring and affectionate friend. You didn’t get to see her as often as you would have liked, but treasured your time together whenever it came.

“You have an aura about you, Mrs. Djarin,” she said sagely, a mischievous glint in her lovely brown eyes as she walked with you up the front steps of her house. “Is there any news you need to tell me?”

You were intrigued but slightly bewildered - you didn’t have any news, did you?

You sat down at her kitchen table. “What do you mean? What kind of aura?”

She didn’t say anything, just gave you a knowing smile as she moved about her kitchen, pouring two cups of Tarine tea into beautiful teacups. You knew they’d been a wedding present from her husband, and she liked to use them as a way to keep his memory close.

“Any for you, Din?” she asked as he took a seat next to you, the baby content to stay in his lap. She handed the baby a cookie, and he gave a pleased coo.

Din chuckled. “No, but thank you for offering. It’s kind of you, considering how many times I’ve declined your hospitality before.”

She waved him off as she sat catty corner to you with her own cup. “What good is a woman’s hospitality if it doesn’t respect those who come through her door?”

She cradled her mug in her hands and blew gently on it as she raised it to her lips. You watched her face expectantly, desperately curious to know what she’d meant by her earlier comment. When she just raised a brow at you, you gave an incredulous laugh.

“What do you know that I don’t know?” you asked. “I don’t think I have any news to tell you.”

Din cocked his head. “News? What news?”

“Omera asked if I had any news to tell her,” you said. “She said I had an ‘aura’ about me. Do I have an aura about me, Din?”

“Um... I don’t know?” he said politely, unsure if it would be a compliment or an insult and therefore choosing the middle ground.

You looked back at Omera. “Is an aura a bad thing?”

She shook her head. “No, not necessarily. It’s just an indication of something - in this case, something medical - that you may not even be aware of.”

You frowned. “Medical? As in, your healing?” Omera was the village healer, but you’d always thought it to be based in traditional, herbal medicine. You’d never heard her mention an “aura” in her work.

She hummed. “Yes, I use it in healing,” she said. “Maybe I should tell you about how I learned to be a healer, and that will make some things clear.”

“I’d love to hear about it,” you said earnestly. Aside from this confusion about your “aura”, you had wanted to know where she trained, as you’d thought she’d been on Sorgan her whole life.

She took a sip of her tea.

“My grandmother’s people were from the planet Dathomir,” she said. “She was born into the Daughters of Allya, a clan of witches and powerful healers, and she was taught to be a healer. Though she left Dathomir to settle with my grandfather here, on Sorgan, she trained my mother to be a healer too. My mother taught me, and when Winta is old enough, I will teach her.”

You studied your friend’s face. To know she was descended from a clan of healer-witches made sense of her uncanny grace, her warrior spirit. It fit her very well, and only grew your admiration for her.

“Do you heal with magic, then?” you asked.

“Not usually,” she said. “Only in very serious cases. And it’s not magic like people usually think of it, not party tricks and potions. It’s more... channeling energy, working with your own life force and the life force of the sick person.”

You and Din looked at each other, and you knew you were thinking the same thing. Life force, energy, healing - that all sounded uncannily similar to the powers your little one exhibited. No one knew of his healing powers aside from those who were there when he’d healed Greef, and to hear Omera talk about a similar power had your interests piqued.

Omera tried to read the tension between the two of you, a frown creasing her brow.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “I’ve offended you, haven’t I? Or frightened you with all this life force talk?”

“Not at all,” you assured her. “It actually sounds like... something we’ve heard of before. But what does it have to do with me?” 

Before Omera could answer, you felt Din stiffen beside you.

“Is it - is there something wrong?” he asked. “Her life force, is there something wrong with it?”

Omera’s smile was warm and comforting. “No,” she assured both of you. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“But you can... sense something about it?” he pressed. You put a hand on his arm, hoping to soothe him; though his posture eased a little at your touch, he still looked at Omera and waited for her answer.

She gave a gentle laugh. “Oh, I’ve done a bad job putting you at ease,” she said, apologetic and kind. “I’m sorry. Yes, I can sense something, and it’s nothing to be worried about. It’s actually very good. It must be early yet, if you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Both of you shook your heads.

She smiled. “Well then, my dear friends. Let me be the first to congratulate you, because you’re going to have another baby.”

Both of you stilled. Then, before you’d quite found your voice - “We’re _what?_ ”

She laughed, the sound bright and happy.

“You’re pregnant,” she told you. “Your aura is unmistakable. The life force coming from you grows by the minute.”

Even before you’d had the chance to really process it, you felt yourself give a beaming smile. You were _pregnant?_ Already? How could that be? You didn’t feel any different, and it had only been a few days ago that you and Din had started trying.

You looked over at him, a little overwhelmed with joy, and you wished you could see his face. He held his hand out to you, palm up on the table, and you put your hand in his.

“We’re having another baby?” he said, his voice hoarse through the modulator. He glanced over at Omera. “Are you sure?”

She beamed at the two of you. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s still early days, but I know a mother’s aura when I see it.”

Din squeezed your hand, and you didn’t need to see his face to know how much he loved you.

“Cyare,” he said. “We’re having another baby.”

“Oh, Din.” You felt a rush of happy tears; he released your hand to cradle your face, running his thumb over your cheek to catch the few that fell.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, cyar’ika,” he said softly. Though Omera and your baby probably understood what it meant, he’d made a point to say it in Mando’a, just for you. For his wife, the mother of his children, the woman he loved more than anything else in the world.

You leaned into his touch and said it back. You couldn’t stop smiling, and he gave a watery, affectionate laugh as he let you take his hand in yours again.

“Thank you for telling us,” Din said, turning to Omera.

She smiled. “You’re very welcome,” she said. “I’m so happy for you both.”

She took your other hand in hers, and you felt a wash of thankfulness to be so cared for by the people you loved. The excitement and happiness between the three of you was palpable, and you were so grateful to share it with your husband and your dearest friend.

“I want you to deliver this baby, Omera,” you said. Even when you were daydreaming about having another baby, you’d never thought about who you wanted to help you deliver; but there, in Omera’s warm, comfortable home with the sun sinking low, you knew you absolutely wanted it to be her.

“I would be honored,” she said sincerely, her smile warm. “It would be my pleasure to help bring another Djarin into the world.”

Your conversation drifted towards Omera’s experience with midwifery, and you were confident that no one in the galaxy would be better suited to help you deliver this baby. Between the two of you, you whiled away the evening in happy conversation. Din jumped in when he felt inclined, but you knew he was happy to take a breather and let you visit while both of you enjoyed the luxury of sitting at a friend’s table and enjoying her company.

Though he’d said you needed to leave when the sun set, Din let you linger as long as possible over the dregs of your tea and your visit with Omera. He was sweetly apologetic when he gently chimed in that you should be leaving, putting a hand on your arm when there was a lull in the conversation.

“I’m sorry, cyare, but we should head back to the Crest.”

You glanced outside and realized that night had well and truly fallen, and your baby was sound asleep in the crook of Din’s arm. It was later than Din had wanted to leave, and you felt a slight pang of guilt.

“Oh, dear, we completely lost track of time, didn’t we?” Omera said as the three of you rose. “Sorry, Din.”

He chuckled. “That’s alright. It was very nice to see you, Omera, as always. Thank you again for watching the little one.”

He accepted her warm embrace and angled the baby towards her, so she could give him a parting kiss on his forehead. Your baby stirred a little, then snuggled further into the cradle of Din’s arm.

Omera smiled. “Take good care of your clan for me, Djarin.”

“I will,” he said, and you knew he meant it.

Omera hugged you then, both of you holding each other close. 

“I love you,” she said.

You hugged her tighter. “I love you,” you said, your voice tight with emotion. You knew it would probably be a while before you saw her again, but at the very least, you’d see her in nine months.

She pressed a kiss to your cheek as she released you.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she said. “And take good care of yourself. I know it won’t be easy, but try not to get into too many dangerous scrapes, ok?”

You smiled. You and Din managed to get into scrapes like it was your job, and Omera knew it.

“I’ll certainly try my best,” you said. You gave her hand a final squeeze. “Thank you for everything.”

She walked you to the door, and gave a parting wave as Din helped you down the steps in the near-darkness. Winta came up as you were leaving, and Din lowered the baby so she could give him a kiss goodbye.

“Oh, this is probably yours,” Din said, realizing the baby still held onto the little toy soldier even as he slept.

Winta smiled. “It’s ok, Mr. Djarin. He can keep it.”

She gave you a quick hug, throwing her arms around your waist before she scampered up the steps to join her mother. You exchanged goodbyes again and took Din’s hand, letting him lead you through the village towards the clearing you’d landed the Crest in earlier.

“Sorry we’re leaving later than you wanted,” you said, leaning against his arm. “Thank you for letting us stay.”

You walked through the patches of light spilling from the rows of cosy huts, even Din’s tread light in the soft grass.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “No need to apologize. I’m sorry we couldn’t stay, cyare.”

Part of you did want to stay, but you were also happy to be going home together. Hopefully Din could set you on course for Trask and leave the Crest on autopilot so he could get some rest with you and the baby.

He handed the baby to you as the Crest’s ramp lowered, and you smiled to yourself as he put a steadying hand on your back while you walked up. You would have to get used to Din’s care taking on a little bit of anxiety and caution, now that you knew you were pregnant, but you would try your best to humor him and knew you wouldn’t mind the extra attention.

He reached up to turn the bay lights on, leaving them on the dimmer setting for your baby’s sake. “If you’ll get him settled, I’ll get us ready to leave.”

“Okay.” You touched your fingers to your mouth, then to the bottom of his visor. “Will you be able to come back down later?”

“Hopefully,” he said, heading towards the ladder. “I’ll have to see how clear our course is. You don’t need to wait up for me, if you’re tired.”

You didn’t think you were, but your bunk did look awfully inviting as you opened the door. The baby usually slept in his hammock above you, but he was sleeping peacefully in your arms and you didn’t want to let go of him just yet. You gently laid him on the bed next to you and curled around him, brushing a gentle finger over his ear.

You were overjoyed with your news. Another baby, and so quickly after you’d started trying. You hoped that your little ones would get along, and though there would certainly be difficulties to navigate, you knew your capacity for love would only grow as your little family did.

You hadn’t thought you could love anyone as much as you loved Din, when you married. When you became a mother, your love for your little one was different but just as strong, and you got to share that love with Din. That was the thing about love - it only grew the more people you had to share it with. You couldn’t wait to welcome your new baby and become a clan of four.

You were nearly asleep by the time Din came back down, lulled by the sound of the Crest’s engine as she sailed towards Trask and Din’s occasional tread above you. You watched as he took his armor off, putting everything in its rightful place.

Careful of the baby, you moved to sit on the edge of the bunk. Din raised a brow at you and you made grabby hands towards him.

“Come kiss me,” you said.

He smiled. “Demanding, aren’t you?”

He leaned down and cradled your face in his hands before kissing you soundly, all tenderness and slow touches. You were drowsy and very in love; he took his time, murmuring words of praise and affection as he kissed all over your face. His fingers traced under your jaw, behind your ears, down your neck; it tickled a little and you giggled as you pulled away from him.

“Quit that,” you said, though you didn’t really mind it.

He chuckled. “Sorry. I won’t do it anymore. Come here.”

You did as he said; his touch was less feather-light, but still gentle. His hands were rough and calloused from years of hard work, but they held you carefully and showed you how much your husband loved you.

He pulled back after a moment and just looked at you, studying your face with that steady, understanding gaze. He started to smile, showing the laugh lines and dimples you loved so dearly, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re having another baby.”

You beamed up at him. “Me either. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Yes, it’s wonderful,” he agreed. He kissed you again. “You’re wonderful. My beautiful, wonderful wife.”

You felt your cheeks pink a little and nuzzled his jaw. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He chuckled. “Thank you.” He tipped your chin up so you would meet his eyes, and brushed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You’re such a good mother, cyar’ika,” he said, and you knew how much he meant it. “I’m so glad our children have you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking of your own mother, thinking of how Din had lost his.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice a little wobbly. You cleared your throat, but the sting of tears still lingered.

“Happy tears, cyare?” he asked gently, brushing away the few that fell.

You nodded and gave a watery laugh. “Sorry I keep crying. I’m just... very happy. I wish I had better words to say it.”

He smiled. “I know what you mean,” he said. “You can cry as much as you need to, cyar'ika.”

You pressed your mouth to his again, and he eased the ache of too much joy - sharing it with him was even better than feeling it alone, and you were so thankful you were going to raise your children with him.

“Come to bed, my love,” you said gently. He gave you a few parting kisses before he pulled back; he took a moment to study you, his gaze soft and affectionate as he looked first at you and then at your son cuddled up in your bunk.

He let you get settled first, and then lay next to you with your son cradled snugly between you. He rested his hand on your stomach, protective of you and the new little one.

“I love you,” he said.

You gave him a chase kiss and tangled your legs together under the blankets. “I love you too.”

You tried to keep up a little bit of conversation, keeping your voice soft so as not to wake your baby; Din didn’t seem overly tired yet, and you knew he liked to lay with you and talk before he fell asleep. But snuggled close like you were, warm and safe and happy, you couldn’t keep your eyes open; he gave a gentle laugh and brushed his hand over your cheek.

“It’s alright, cyare,” he said tenderly. “Sleep, if you need to. I’m not going anywhere.”

You let yourself relax as he gently combed his fingers through your hair, humming a Mandalorian lullaby to you. There in your husband’s arms with your baby held close, snuggled into your bunk that would soon hold four instead of three, you drifted to sleep happier and more content than you had ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finis! i hope you guys have enjoyed reading this sequel as much as i've enjoyed writing it. i've absolutely fallen in love with our little clan djarin, and i hope to keep writing for them in the future. thank you for letting me share my stories with you! ♡

**Author's Note:**

> as always, come see me on my tumblr, @javi-djarins ♡


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